


Just friends

by Hanavia



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26494582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanavia/pseuds/Hanavia
Summary: "We are friends," he says. And I swallow because I understand.
Kudos: 1





	Just friends

Nervously I glance over to him and ask myself why I let myself be persuaded to go and watch a movie together with my ex-boyfriend. My ex-boyfriend, who has only been my ex-boyfriend for a few days because I broke up with him in my drunken head. It is humiliating and embarrassing that I am so attached to him and that I rushed to meet him when he asked me to. 

Now we sit on his bed and watch a TV show, there is a bowl of popcorn between us and a single blanket is stretched across us. Just like before, actually. Like before this event a good week ago. 

Easter is here. There could be worse ways to spend this day and yet this is one of the more pleasant ones. Not least because in the last few days I tried to somehow fix our relationship and in response he showed me a very cold shoulder. Which I can understand, because he doesn't trust anyone lightly. And that I broke up with him because he annoyed me is an immense breach of trust, I have to admit that much to him. That's why I fight for him, or at least try to.

Today, he doesn't talk as much as usual and is very absorbed in his thoughts, but he doesn't behave dismissively. It's just quieter than usual and of course I'm appropriately reserved. 

As soon as he took me in his arms at the front door, it was hard for me to return this hug and I stood there a little stiff, finally putting my arms around him and soaking up this familiar smell that I had missed so much in the meantime. 

When he told me on Friday that we could at least be friends, I didn't realize how normal everything could become if I just let it. It was strange, though. The way he spoke to me, totally unbiased, and that smile that made me melt, this was not the first time he gave me this present today. We decided on a series that we both knew from childhood and actually I should have felt comfortable. I was completely taken care of, the waves between us seemed to have calmed down and yet I felt a little lost. 

The euphoric mood from before, when he spontaneously invited me to his place, had vanished and had given way to a strange mistrust. Could he really just forgive me so quickly? Was it so easy to flip the switch? 

Of course I ended this relationship because everything happened too fast for me, but even I, who usually only played with men, felt uncomfortable at the thought of throwing away this short time so quickly and so frivolously. 

We fit together, not only did we have similar hobbies, goals and wishes. We only resemble each other enough to find each other likeable and then we are so different that we complement each other. Even though I've only known Samuel for three months, I feel as if I've known him for half my life and until now there have been few people who have had such an attraction to me. 

That is why it is not easy for me to just accept that everything is over. Of course this sounds stupid because I was the one who ended the relationship, but actually, because of my intoxication, I can't remember what made me do it and it's so uncomfortable and embarrassing that my head probably represses any memories and burns them at regular intervals when I'm not looking. 

Samuel pulls me out of my thoughts as he laughs at a funny scene and shovels popcorn into his head. "My goodness, I've completely forgotten what horny remarks he has," he says, referring to the protagonist. "He used to be my hero." I grin and out of reflex I put my hand on his neck. Just like before. But I let go of him just as quickly as if I had burnt myself. He doesn't take any notice and keeps on looking. 

"Do you want more?" he asks and points to the popcorn. I shake my head and he puts the bowl on the floor. Now there's this gap between us that I'd love to fill. But I don't dare. I've been acting like the biggest bitch and I have no right to demand this intimacy. 

It is unpleasant to want but not to be able to. 

At some point I try to concentrate on the series and a few episodes later I still find myself in his arm. At some point he just stretched out his arm, slid closer and pulled me towards him. Just like before. Made me feel his defined muscles, buried my face on his chest and kissed my hair. 

I didn't deserve it, nor did I when we were together. Although he is older than I am, he has this childish naivety and this openness that I miss. I am brooding and suspicious. Only in relationships is it different with me. By the way, the same with him. It's as if our character traits are reversed as soon as we are in a relationship. Then he is suspicious and I am hopeful. But the latter only if it's someone I don't really care about.

As I have found out, this is not the case here. Somehow... he means more to me, although I can't quite point my finger in the right direction.

His hand stroking my upper arm feels good. As if he wanted to appease me for all the hours he ignored me in a cold way and wanted to make up for it. 

I am surprised that he gets so close to me at all. After all, he wanted to be friends with me. Or do friends do that lately? In any case, it feels as if he wanted to express his affection. 

In an attempt to grasp the whole thing, I snuggle up even more to him. Because I need his closeness and the feeling of desperation overcomes me. It is exactly what I want. To lie there with him on Sunday mornings, watching old series and let my hands wander over his body. Kiss him, bring him breakfast in bed. A strange queasy feeling spreads through my body and I'm glad he's not looking at me right now. My face is hot, I can literally feel the shivering in my throat and I am so ashamed to have forfeited my rights. 

What would the old me have done at that moment? 

Probably I would have climbed on his lap, distracted him from this gruesome series and kissed him until he would start caressing my body with his delicate, delicate fingers and his rosy, soft lips. 

If only he could read my thoughts and know how much I long for him, even though I don't give him what he expected from me that night. Maybe then he would know that these three words he absolutely wants to hear from me are meaningless, because I show him my love with every pore, every touch and every kiss. 

Then he would know that he could trust me, even after this terrible fight. But I am too proud and at the same time too cowardly to make myself heard. I want to kiss him and yet I sit beside him in silence, even though he is approaching me. But perhaps I suspect that it is his bad conscience or even habit. I want him to forgive me for my mistake and that I get a chance to prove to him how much he means to me without falling below his expectations. 

If I told him what he wanted to hear, it would not be real. My 'I love you' would be hasty and therefore said out of fear, although it is not yet meant as it should be. And yet I cannot condemn him because I understand his concerns. 

He is afraid that I am only playing with him because I have revealed my dark past to him. That I have always somehow degraded men to toys. I told him about this when I initially rejected his advances and tried to explain to him that I am not a relationship person.

Samuel wouldn't give up and somehow I was attracted to him and at a certain point in my life I even felt like I was standing in my own way. So we decided to take it slow. But his expression of love and the question why I can't return his love made me angry. So angry that I drank one too many to avoid this terrible trap. And then I told him how annoying he was and how childish. Those are the only words that remained in my head. I still can't remember them exactly and maybe it's better that way. 

There's no point in thinking about what I could have done better or should have let stay, after all the damage has been done. 

My bad conscience keeps me from getting close to him. Just as I think that he only has pity for me, so in the same breath I don't feel worthy of his affection at all. 

Nevertheless he caresses me and at some point I feel his lips against my ear, whispering softly so that I can only guess what he has said. "We are friends," he says. And I swallow because I understand. 

  
"Yes", I whisper and have the feeling that I'll have to start crying at any moment. Because it seems to me as if he would tear my heart out of my chest and stomp on it, but before I am even capable of another thought, he presses his lips on mine and kisses me. 

That I held my breath I only realized a few seconds later when he let go of me and brushed his thumb across my cheek. He looks at me strangely insistently and I can't really assign it, but at that moment my heart, which was just so hurt, is beating in a faster pace. Confused, I bring some distance between us, look at his mouth and the smile that lies in its corner. Again. 

I lift my gaze, look him in the eyes and try to figure out what he is planning. If this is all just a test and he wants to find out if I play by his rules. But what kind of strange game is this now? 

"We are friends", I now say in a firm voice, because I have no idea how else to react, and I tilt my head to cause any reaction. 

"We are friends," he confirms. His lips meet mine and his fingers are lost in my hair. With the other hand he grabs me and pulls me with a sudden jerk to his lap, as if he had read my thoughts and as if I didn't weigh a thing. And although this tiny thought is in the back of my head, this sense of guilt, I clasp my hands in his neck and play this perfidious game. Self-flagellation has always been exactly my thing.

At this very moment I am trying to drown in his affection because it is so much better than running away and denying my longing. To surrender and just follow the path that he sets for me. He couldn't give me a more beautiful salvation at this moment than this, not having to think about the fact that we are friends. 

The fact that we are not really friends is completely blocked out in my mind. It is a question for later, one that I will still despair of. But for now, I enjoy how this crazy wave carries me away and nothing else exists but him and me, in this vast universe where we exist in the middle of it, without form or direction. No good, no evil, no black, no white, just us. 

Just us, in this moment of weakness, which I allow myself, because he heals the scars of my soul by his tongue. 


End file.
